An Ordinary Life
by YellowDancer
Summary: A surreal glimpse of normality in the world of Devil May Cry. Years after they parted ways, Lady and Dante run into each other and share a pleasant afternoon in the city. NOT a LxD pairing. Mostly Dante and kids and fluff...


**Author's Note: This story takes place after the first game, though because we don't know for sure how long the gap is between 3 and 1, it's hard to say exactly where it falls. It doesn't really matter though since this is kind of a strange little story about Lady growing up, I guess. The inspiration hit me and I couldn't quite shake the idea--though it is odd. It's kind of a "what if" scenario. Then again, doesn't that describe all fan fiction? **

**I apologize in advance if I totally botched the children. I couldn't decide what their ages were exactly, so I'm afraid they may seem like pretty strange kids. I struggled with making them act like normal misbehaving children while keeping the focus on Lady and Dante. **

**Pairing: Though there are possible suggestions otherwise, this is _not _a Lady x Dante story.**

**An Ordinary Life**

The sun was shining brilliantly on the paved streets of the market district, reflecting a wave of heat that ricocheted from the picture windows to the shopping bags branded with names and logos and back again. It made Mary's eyes water, but she had long ago gotten used to the sensation.

For a good portion of her life, she had seen the light of day only rarely, spending most of her time fighting a hopeless battle against all the gruesome things that crawled through the shadows of night and sacrificing her youth for a never-ending quest. But the quest had ended--at least for her.

The death and blood had left its mark on her, and slowly the anguish of constantly fighting a losing battle had torn her idealistic mission to shreds. She had continued to fight and watch as her humanity was stripped away piece by piece, but eventually there came a point when she could fight no more--a point when she became a liability. Then, she decided that quests without end were for immortal blood alone. She, after all, was only human.

"Danielle! Don't run!"

Her daughter spun around, pale pink skirts whirling around her legs as she pouted back at her mother, hands planted petulantly on narrow hips. "Hurry! I'm hungry." Matthew babbled some kind of nonsense at his big sister, but Danielle only rolled her eyes and began walking again, patent leather shoes slapping loudly on the paving stones.

Mary smiled wearily, adjusting Matthew on her hip and attempting to catch up with Danielle before she caused a scene. Mary walked with a rather prominent limp--one of the reasons she had given up her fight so long ago--but she walked proudly nevertheless. "Patience, Dani. We'll get there when we get there." She could see her own spirit in Danielle's temper and was reluctant to scold her too harshly for it, though her husband often berated her for her leniency.

Shaking her head, Mary ducked beneath the low branches of a poorly trimmed tree and dodged an older woman laden with shopping bags as she tried to keep up with her daughter. Gurgling happily, Matthew gripped the loose strands of black hair scattered across her shoulder to reassure himself as she increased her speed.

"Slow down, Danielle," she ordered with more command in her voice when she saw her daughter slip between a young couple and take off at a run again. "Sorry," she murmured apologetically to the couple as she shuffled past, frowning when she saw a man trot leisurely down the steps from an upper level store to the sidewalk directly in Danielle's path.

Glancing back at her mother with challenge in her brown eyes, Danielle failed to notice the obstacle in her path and continued running toward the man at full speed. Mary evaded a few more shoppers, anger mingling with worry as she managed a ridiculous half-jog to catch up. Coming to a breathless stop just in time to see Danielle run headfirst into the man's legs, Mary's breath caught in her throat when she noticed his unnaturally white, silvery hair.

"Whoa, babe," the man said, chuckling softly as he turned around with a raised brow.

Danielle's lips were curved into an "o" of surprise, her head thrown back as she gazed up at him. His hand was resting lightly on her shoulder as he steadied her on her feet, but he quickly removed it, as if he were afraid someone might accuse him of accosting a child. As unfair as it seemed, Mary knew such an accusation was a very real possibility; he was dressed casually to fit in with the afternoon shopping crowd and she couldn't see a weapon on him--though she had no doubt he had one or two hidden away somewhere--but he had an invisible aura of danger that no change of wardrobe could remove. "Where's your mommy?"

"Right here." Mary smiled fondly at him, watching with amusement as his startled blue eyes settled on her and his jaw dropped open slightly. "It's been a long time, Dante."

He looked older, his features narrower and more defined than she remembered, but he hadn't lost that brazen glint in his eyes. "Lady," he said softly, and she held Matthew closer to her to repress the shiver his rough voice evoked. _I'm a married woman,_ she reminded herself, angry that she even needed the reminder. _He may be the physical embodiment of sexual desire, but that doesn't mean I desire him that way. _

Placing a hand lightly on Danielle's head, he said with a wistful twist to his smile, "So you're a mother now, huh? That's hard to believe."

To Mary's surprise, Danielle did not recoil from his touch as she usually did at the first hint of a patronizing gesture; apparently Dante's charisma had an effect on both adults and children--though she sincerely hoped not in the same way. Still gaping openly at him, Danielle said with the awe-filled bluntness of a child, "You're tall."

Laughing softly, Dante crouched down to her, regarding her at nearly eye-level. "That better?" Mary was pleasantly surprised by his patience; she didn't know why, but she had half expected him to be completely intolerant of children.

Danielle tilted her head at Dante uncertainly, and Mary observed her uncharacteristic shyness with curiosity. "Are you mommy's friend?" she asked, her eyes wide as she looked back at her mother for reassurance.

When Dante hesitated, Mary answered for him, "Yes, Danielle. He's a friend."

Emboldened by this answer, Danielle turned back to face Dante, intrepidly reaching out to touch the crown of Dante's head in a mirror of his earlier gesture, her tiny fingers barely grazing his silver hair. Dante seemed taken aback, his eyes wide and his lips parted, but Danielle did not notice his reaction. Her tone comically serious, she said clearly, "You are very pretty."

Mary couldn't hold back her laugh.

Scowling, Dante tapped Danielle lightly on the tip of her nose with a fingertip as he chided her, "_Girls_ are pretty. Boys are handsome."

Danielle's eyes twinkled with mischief. "You are _pretty_," she repeated with a wicked grin.

Shocked by her gall, Dante did not immediately respond, and Mary felt uneasy wondering if Danielle had actually wounded his considerable pride. "Danielle," Mary said with warning in her voice.

But then Dante raised an eyebrow, a smile twitching at the corners of his mouth as he looked up at Mary. "She's her mother's daughter all right. Stubborn to a fault."

"I guess it takes one to know one."

Dante smirked, cocking his head. "There's a difference between being stubborn and being right."

Before Mary could respond, Danielle snatched at Dante's hand and put all of her less than substantial weight into tugging on it in the direction of the restaurant. "Let's go!" Apparently, her interest in Dante had not completely superceded her interest in lunch.

Maintaining his balance effortlessly, Dante reigned in Danielle with an amused expression. "Where are we going?"

"We were on our way to get some lunch when Danielle ran into you," Mary explained, never one to back down from a challenge no matter how awkward. "Would you like to eat with us?"

He hesitated, his eyes darting from Danielle to the ornamental tree in the planter next to him to the ground and back to Mary. It was strange to see him so uncertain. "I don't know..."

"Oh come on, Dante," Mary scoffed. "Surely you're hungry. I've never known you to not be hungry." She paused, looking at him obliquely. "Unless you have other plans."

Sighing as his gaze settled on her again, he shook his head slowly. "No. No plans." He grinned. "And I guess I _am_ a bit hungry."

"Let's go!" Danielle cried again, more insistently this time, and Dante stood up again with exaggerated sluggishness as if to tease her. "Come on!" she yanked harder on his arm, her eyes sparking defiantly, but Dante only chuckled.

"Not so hard! You're going to break my arm!" Dante grumbled in mock seriousness.

Mary watched them quietly, still slightly thrown by the entire situation. They were standing on a pleasant, sunlit sidewalk surrounded by urban life and normalcy, but Dante did not belong here. He had exchanged his garish red coat for a collared shirt--still boldly red, though, and unbuttoned to the third button--and he had traded his slick leather pants for a faded pair of jeans, yet his bare hands seemed unnatural without the cold, hard metal of twin guns resting in their palms.

It had been more than ten years since she last saw Dante. He had visited her at the hospital after her last battle--the one that had given her the injury which had never completely healed--and he'd convinced her to let him take up her burden for her. He had been trying to convince her almost since the moment they met, but she had not listened until that day when she had died for the first time. She had been told that the doctors resuscitated her twice. She had been clinically dead long enough in between to see one ephemeral glimpse of the afterlife and realize she wasn't ready to face it just yet.

So, she had listened to him at last and let him continue on their quest to destroy every demon alone. She had made him promise to keep in touch, and he had for a little while, but slowly they had drifted apart. She was as much at fault for the lapse as he was--perhaps more so--but either way they had lost contact with each other and she had moved on. She could only assume he had done the same--Dante had never been known for standing still.

A pair of teenage girls walked by in their miniskirts and platform shoes, eyeing Dante as if he were a piece of meat and giggling to each other as they passed. Mary watched them with narrowed eyes, and then surveyed the crowd around her thoughtfully. With or without his flashy red coat and armory of weapons, Dante drew a lot of attention.

Mary glared at the middle-aged woman who was leaning against the window of a store and scrutinizing Dante's backside. The woman finally noticed Mary's stare and looked away quickly. "Dante." Mary said gently.

"Hm?" Dante cut short the conversation he was having with Danielle, looking up at Mary innocently--or at least as innocently as he was capable of looking. He wasn't exactly innocent by nature, but he seemed oblivious, at least, to all the attention focused on him. Either that, or he was so used to being the center of attention that he would have only noticed the attention in its absence.

"Shall we go? The restaurant's just around the corner."

He nodded. "Sure."

They began walking again, and this time Danielle hovered nearby, clinging to Dante's hand and gazing up at him as if he was a movie star and she was his biggest fan.

"So...how are you?"

Shrugging, he replied simply, "Fine. Good." His smile widened slowly. "This is strange."

"It is, isn't it?" She glanced down at Danielle and Matthew and back at him, feeling as if two worlds had just collided. Dante was a ghost from a past she had left behind without regrets and her memories of him had stopped seeming real a long time ago. "What are you doing in the market anyway?" Mary asked, shifting Matthew to her opposite hip to make it easier for them to walk side by side.

Dante shrugged. "A client asked me to meet him at his shop. I was just leaving our meeting when I ran into you."

"A client? Wow, you must be really moving up in the world."

Dante smirked darkly at her. "Just what are you implying?"

"Only that you didn't have many respectable clients back when I was working with you. They paid well, but they didn't seem entirely legit."

"Yeah, I've still got a few of those. But business is steady and that's all I really care about." Dante followed her around the corner toward the bistro, glancing across the street at the manicured lawns of the city park. "So, what about you? I thought you moved out of the city."

Dante opened the door for her and she smiled as she ducked under his arm, still feeling utterly strange to be talking to him so casually. "I did. Shortly after we got married, John got transferred. We're just in town this week to visit his relatives." She decided not to mention their wedding, or her personal disappointment that Dante had not made an appearance despite her invitation--not to say that she had been surprised by his absence at all. No, just disappointed.

"Where is your husband, anyway?" Dante asked, shoving his hands in his pockets in a self-conscious gesture that seemed entirely out of place on him, his eyes darting around the restaurant as if he expected to see John lurking somewhere in the room.

Mary regarded him thoughtfully, trying to interpret the strange expression on his face. She and Dante had never been involved romantically, though he had made a move on her once long ago. He had leaned in for a kiss and she had turned away, and that had been that. Though Dante was an insatiable flirt and a tease, he had never pushed things with her, respecting her refusal with silent dignity. She had occasionally wished he would have questioned it because there had been moments when she had questioned it herself, but she had never once looked back after meeting John. Dante was an honorable man and an amusing companion, but she did not love him. Still, she couldn't help wondering if he felt the same way.

Watching his expression carefully, she answered, "John's brother took the day off so they could play golf. He said he would meet up with the kids and I after lunch."

Inclining his head in response unable to hide his relief, Dante said with a smile, "Golf. Wow."

"I know. It's weird, isn't it?" Mary pulled her hair out of Matthew's mouth. He babbled inanely in response. Patting him lightly on the back, she returned her attention to Dante. "We actually live in the suburbs with a picket fence and a swing set in the backyard too."

His eyes widened. "And you like it?"

She laughed quietly. "I do. It surprises me too, but I guess you tend to change when you find the person you love."

Nodding and looking away, his smile softened. "I guess you do."

Unable to quell her curiosity, she opened her mouth to ask him if he had found someone like that as well, but the hostess chose that moment to interrupt them. By the time they were seated comfortably at a table on the patio, the moment had passed and her question would have seemed rude. They spent the following minutes debating the items on the menu and the varieties of pizza. Mary teased Dante about his poor eating habits in the past, and he pointed out that she had never complained at the time. They ordered and Mary raised her eyebrows when Dante ordered a Muffuletta.

"No pizza?" she asked, handing her menu to the waitress.

Dante shrugged, leaning back in his chair. "I figured I should be a little more sophisticated today. I am eating lunch at an upscale restaurant with a beautiful woman and her two children, after all."

"Hah!" Mary adjusted Matthew on her lap, wiping the drool off his chin with a napkin. "You're putting the charm on awfully thick. Let me guess. You're low on money and hoping I'll cover the bill."

"Not at all." Dante pursed his lips. "Besides, I'm naturally charming."

"Mommy?" Danielle's hand was outreached imploringly. "Crayons!"

Sighing, Mary dug around in her purse for the small box of crayons she always carried around with her and handed it to Danielle who eagerly began scribbling on the paper placemat. Taking a sip of her iced tea, Mary regarded Dante silently, unable to decide what to make of him. He was watching Danielle, his expression gentler than she had ever seen it, and a strange ache gripped her chest.

"Have you ever thought about having children, Dante?" The question had slipped out of her mouth before she could even think about it, and she felt a faint blush heating her cheeks. She hadn't even asked if he had a significant other yet, and now she was just assuming he didn't have any children of his own? She had no idea where her tact had gone, but she figured she should probably start looking for it.

Dante's electric blue gaze snapped back to her, and he smirked, though the expression was a flimsy cover for the emotions she could see in his eyes. "Well, that would be pretty irresponsible, wouldn't it?"

Mary straightened, his answer taking her by surprise. Since when was he concerned with responsibility? "Irresponsible? How so?"

Dante shrugged, looking away and keeping his expression carefully indifferent. "For one, I wouldn't wish my powers on anyone--they come with too high a price. And for another... I don't exactly live a life that's intended for kids. I play with toys I wouldn't want within reach of children and I put my a--" He glanced at Danielle and Matthew, quickly revising his language as he continued, "Uh, butt on the line every day. I usually come home bathed in blood and there are times I wonder if I'll make it home at all. It wouldn't be fair to bring children into the world knowing there's a good chance I wouldn't be there to help raise them. I know what it's like to grow up without a father, and frankly, it sucks."

Mary smiled sadly. "I know. I've been there too, remember? But lots of parents have dangerous jobs. Look at fireman, for example. They put their lives on the line every day too."

"Fires don't come after firemen," Dante said sharply. "They put out the fires and go home. I don't have that luxury."

Frowning and pulling her fork out of Matthew's hands before he could injure himself, she replied, "You could change your lifestyle...like I did. Aren't you tired of fighting?"

He scoffed at her words. "I can't change who I am, Lady. And even if I stopped fighting, it would only be an open invitation to all the monsters out there with a grudge. I can either fight or die, and I have no intention of going down easily, so I guess it's fight."

An awkward silence fell between them, punctuated only by Matthew's burblings. Mary was grateful when their food arrived a minute later and she could distract herself with helping Danielle and feeding Matthew. Finally taking a bite of her own food, she noticed Dante studying her thoughtfully. The pensive expression seemed foreign on his face. "What is it?" she asked, wiping the crumbs away from the corner of her mouth.

"You have no idea how unbelievably weird this is." Dante replied, slipping back into his usual smirk.

"I think I might."

He shook his head, stabbing a large chunk of his potato salad with his fork. "No, I don't think you do. I woke up today grumbling about having to get up before noon and part with Ebony and Ivory in order to meet with a client in the midst of normalville. If I had known that I would run into a girl I used to decapitate demons with only to find out she had turned into the most normal thing in the whole place, I would have stayed in bed."

Smiling at him as she twirled her straw lazily in her glass, she commented, "You make being normal sound like a bad thing."

Meeting her eyes, his smile widened. "Not bad...just weird."

She laughed. "Normal is weird. What an oxymoron."

Polishing off the last bite of his sandwich, he leaned back in his chair with a shrug. "What can I say? To me, normal _is_ weird."

Looking at his empty plate in amazement, she demanded, "How can you be done already?"

"I only had one mouth to feed," he said pointedly.

She smiled kindly at him. "Yeah, I guess that's true. And it's a pretty big mouth too."

Raising an eyebrow at her, he whined, "So we're starting with the insults already? That didn't take long."

"There are some things I don't think will ever change." Matthew reached for her fork again and she tugged it out of his hand, wiping off the slobber and distracting him with the bits of food on the edge of the table he hadn't eaten.

"How do you keep up with them?" Dante asked quietly.

"They're actually being surprisingly well behaved today. Probably because we have company," she admitted reluctantly, fully expecting an arrogant, self-assured response from Dante.

To her surprise, Dante didn't reply with anything other than a smirk. Leaning forward against the table, Dante asked, "So, what's the little one's name?"

"Matthew," she replied, unable to keep the pride from her voice. Though she had never thought she would turn into such a doting parent, talking about her children never ceased to fill her with delight, though the feeling had an unreal edge to it when she was talking about them with Dante.

Chuckling in that throaty way of his that seemed to drip with raw sexuality even when he was talking about nothing more provocative than the weather, Dante shook his head. "A family of such normal names." He glanced at her daughter. "Though I suppose Danielle _is_ a little unusual."

Danielle glanced up at him with a frown, but quickly returned her attention to her coloring. Raising an eyebrow at her daughter, Mary marveled again at how well behaved she was being. Although, judging by her intent expression and her grip on her crayon, she was too absorbed in her drawing at the moment to notice anything else. Mary returned her attention to Dante, uncertain how to respond but very certain she wasn't going to mention that Danielle's name had been inspired by Dante's own name. "Well, we can't all have names like 'Dante.'"

"Yeah. They'd probably get made fun of in school."

She tilted her head at him thoughtfully. Though they had worked together over the course of a number of years and saved each other's lives several times over, she really knew very little about him. In fact, now that she thought about it, this was one of only a few serious conversations she had ever had with him. "Were you teased about your name in school?"

Dante rested his chin on the palm of his hand. "I didn't go to school."

She laughed softly. "That certainly explains some things."

Narrowing his eyes at her, he clarified, "I had tutors."

She whistled through her teeth. "That sounds pretty high classed. I never took you for a snobby rich kid. Vergil maybe, but you? No way."

Dante's expression darkened at the sound of his brother's name and she instantly regretted mentioning it. "What are you saying? That I'm low class?"

"Excuse me," the waitress interrupted, and Mary noticed that the girl was openly staring at Dante. "Would you like anything else?"

"Just the check, please." Mary said tightly, drawing the girl's attention.

Sitting back in his chair, Dante returned all the attention to himself. "I'll take that," he said quickly when the waitress placed the ticket on the table. The girl smiled capriciously at him when his hand brushed against hers, but walked away from the table reluctantly when Mary cleared her throat.

"Dante, really, you don't have to. I can pay for it."

"No," Dante said with a determined, but gentle smile. "I've got it."

"It was my idea to go for lunch," she protested.

"And I ordered one of the more expensive things on the menu."

"Dante!" she groused, catching his sleeve when he pulled the ticket out of reach.

A playful twinkle in his eyes, he replied simply, "Stop whining. You know how stubborn I am when I've made up my mind. Get over it."

Sighing, she let him have his way, realizing that for a moment she had forgotten the distance between them and the strange awkwardness that had been hovering over the entire meal. For a moment, they had simply been Lady and Dante again, arguing over stupid things, taking up opposing positions and refusing to budge. With a suddenness that was almost painful, she realized she had truly missed him.

"Dante," she murmured, watching him slide the ticket to the edge of the table with a credit card acting as paperweight.

"Hm?" In his typical fashion, he was completely ignorant of her thoughts.

Placing a hand lightly on top of his, she smiled wistfully. "I'm glad we ran into each other."

He returned her smile, his incessant smirk softening to something a little more genuine. Then, his usual roguish expression returning as quickly as it had left, he replied, "Hey, if you were that desperate to have someone treat you to lunch, you could have just asked."

Shaking her head in exasperation, Mary sighed. "Why do you always have to ruin the moment, Dante?"

"You sound just like Trish," he said with a shake of his head, echoing her sigh.

Mary immediately perked up, her ears pricked for gossip. "Trish?" she asked with as little interest as she could manage.

He shrugged. "My partner."

Mary's eyes widened. "You have a partner?" It was true that she and Dante had worked together in the past, but he had never offered her a position of partnership and she had never sought one. The very idea of him sharing his business with anyone was a difficult concept to wrap her mind around.

Smiling coyly, he admitted, "Yeah. I have a partner."

"I can't believe it." Mary leaned forward eagerly, unable to hide her curiosity any longer. "So, what's she like? How'd you meet her?"

Dante seemed a little uncomfortable with her enthusiasm and he visibly distanced himself by leaning back in his chair. "Whoa. Slow down." Narrowing his eyes at her, he asked, "Why are you so interested?"

She shrugged. "Well, you've just always been such a loner..."

"Loner?" He raised an eyebrow.

"Don't even try to deny it."

"Mommy." Danielle tugged on her sleeve. Glancing furtively at Dante as if she were embarrassed, she whispered earnestly, "I've got to go."

Smiling at her daughter's insecurity, Mary looked up at Dante's curious expression and decided to curtail the conversation until later. "Dante, would you mind watching Matthew while I take Danielle to the little girl's room?"

"Mommy!" Danielle hissed.

Mary had already lifted Matthew off her lap, but Dante was looking at him as warily as if he were a demon. "Ah, I don't know if--"

"You'll do fine," Mary assured him, depositing Matthew into his arms before he could refuse. "I promise he won't bite. Though he might slobber a little..."

Holding Matthew awkwardly, Dante looked up at her with uncertainty in his eyes. It was a struggle, but she managed not to laugh. He was a badass half demon who could slice and dice various nightmarish monsters without batting an eye, and yet he seemed to be terrified of being responsible for a child for a short period of time.

"We'll be right back."

\

A few minutes later, Mary was examining herself in the mirror as she helped Danielle to wash her hands, wondering how Dante saw her. Her hair was longer and her face less youthful than it had been when he knew her last. Her waist was not nearly so slim as it had once been and her hips were wider. Her age was showing in the small wrinkles around her mouth and eyes--showing far more than Dante's would probably ever show--though John claimed he couldn't even see the wrinkles when she pointed them out to him. She was still young, but she found that a life of keeping up with her children was taking more of a toll on her than her life of fighting had. Pushing a lock of black hair behind her ear self-consciously, she ushered Danielle back out into the restaurant.

She was relieved to see that Matthew was not throwing a fit; in fact, he appeared to be entirely content, happily playing with strands of Dante's shaggy silver hair and blinking wide-eyed at the demon hunter. Dante was regarding Matthew with equal interest, an eyebrow arched expressively as he listened to Matthew's babbling. To Mary's annoyance, though, he wasn't the only one showing interest, though she strongly suspected the attention currently being showered on her son was more honestly intended for the man holding him.

Observing from across the restaurant, Mary pursed her lips as she watched the small crowd of well-dressed women of all ages hover around him, cooing and fussing over Matthew while glancing furtively at Dante. In fact, the women seemed to be drooling over Dante at least as much as Matthew was. "Amazing," she murmured under her breath. Perhaps it was a good thing that Dante didn't spend much time mingling with the general public if this was the reaction such excursions earned him; his ego was already monumental enough without encouragement on this scale.

"Mommy," Danielle complained, tugging on Mary's hand.

Following her daughter's lead, Mary approached the table leisurely, reminding herself to be patient with these coddled, privileged women. Though she had assimilated herself into civilized society in many ways since marrying John, there were some things about it that still irked her more than a little. "Excuse me," she said clearly, announcing her presence and parting the crowd.

"Oh," one of the women said quickly, gushing over Matthew though her manicured hand was resting on Dante's shoulder like a claw. "Your baby is just so adorable."

"Thank you," Mary said with a tight smile.

"Well, with such attractive parents, it's no wonder he turned out so cute," another woman commented with an obnoxious laugh.

"Yes," a third woman cooed, pinching Matthew's cheek while glancing coyly at Dante. "He definitely has his father's eyes." Mary frowned. Matthew's eyes, like Dante's, were blue, but that was where the similarity ended; Matthew's eyes were a darker, truer shade of blue--the color of John's eyes--while Dante's were nearly aquamarine.

His gaze darting toward the woman, Dante's smile slipped. "Oh, I'm not the father," he said quickly. "I'm just a friend."

"Really...?" the woman asked, her eyes narrowing as she returned her attention to Mary with a disapproving expression. "I see..."

The women exchanged glances and muttered under their breath as they dispersed, and Mary knew they were jumping to conclusions about her possible infidelity--or perhaps they were merely thinking about what they viewed as her mistake in not choosing Dante to be the father of her children. Either way, they were judging her, and she hated being judged.

Mary's smile was painfully tight as she turned back to Dante. "Thank you so much for looking after him," she said as she reached for Matthew.

"Hold on," Dante chuckled with a wince. "He's still attached."

Mary's smile softened as she gently untangled Matthew's fingers from Dante's silvery strands of hair, trying to ignore the strange, attentive expression on his face. Something in Dante's eyes made the moment more intimate than it should have been, though she didn't know why she let it affect her. Dante was good at turning innocent gestures into something more suggestive, but he seemed to do it out of habit more than anything; she had learned long ago that the intent look in his eyes did not usually mean what it seemed to mean. "Sorry," she said when she had finally pried Matthew's hands away. "He has a bit of a hair fetish."

"It wasn't so bad," Dante replied, though the relief on his face as she pulled Matthew from his arms said otherwise. "Though I didn't realize just how much attention it would draw," he added with a satisfied smirk and a glance around the restaurant.

"Don't even pretend that you didn't enjoy it."

He merely smiled in response. Then, pointing to her purse, he said, "Your phone rang while you were gone."

Flipping open her phone, she listened to the new voice mail quickly. "John's on his way. He's going to meet us at the park across the street."

Dante nodded vaguely. "I should probably get going anyway."

"Oh, I didn't mean to run you off," Mary said quickly. "You're welcome to spend the afternoon with us. I'd like for you to meet John, and..."

"I really should be getting back." He rose to his feet and stretched drowsily. "Trish and I have a job tonight and--"

Trailing off midsentence, Dante looked down at the girl who had caught his hand in both of her own, tiny hands wound around his fingers tightly. His expression was something close to awe as he looked at Danielle, and Mary felt that ache in her chest again. What was it about watching Dante melt before her eyes that was so compelling?

"Come play!" Danielle demanded, glaring up at Dante with as much ferocity as a girl dressed in a frilly pink dress could muster.

Mary gathered up her things and maneuvered Matthew on her hip so she could nudge Dante lightly with her elbow. "It looks like you don't have a choice."

Sighing exaggeratedly, Dante replied, "I guess I could play for a little while."

Danielle's eyes sparkled with joy and she began eagerly heading for the door, attempting to pull Dante along behind her. Following along at a distance so Dante wouldn't see the laughter in her eyes, Mary watched with an amused smile as Danielle attempted to drag Dante across the street. He pulled her back firmly when a car turned the corner into their path.

"So, I can't help wondering..." Dante said when Mary had caught up with them and the traffic had cleared so they could cross. "Did you wear dresses like that when you were little?"

Mary glanced down at the ruffled hem of Danielle's dress as she skipped ahead of Dante, resenting his question for some unexplainable reason. "I did. I hated them."

Dante nodded with a smile. "Just as I thought. But if you hated them so much, why are you making your daughter wear the horrifyingly frilly things?"

Freeing a hand from Matthew so she could punch Dante on the shoulder, Mary answered bluntly, "I don't _make _her wear them. Danielle likes them for some reason unknown to me. She insists on wearing them."

"Okay." Rubbing his shoulder with a scowl, Dante asked, "But why did my innocent little question deserve such violence?"

Mary glared at him, though the expression was only half-serious. "That couldn't have actually hurt you."

"It stung a little."

"Hey! Pretty!" Danielle cried, and Dante's playful grin turned into a grimace. "Over here!"

Unable to hide her amusement, Mary clarified unnecessarily, "That would be you."

"That's handsome, not pretty," Dante corrected Danielle gravely. Danielle only giggled in response, looking back at him in anticipation as she took off at a run. Sighing softly, a smile softening his expression, Dante rushed after her with liquid grace, catching her after only a few strides and tickling her mercilessly.

Danielle managed to escape his grasp--perhaps by Dante's own intention--and ran off toward a jungle gym, giggling all the way. Dante pursued her with mock ferocity and Mary followed behind them more slowly, enjoying watching someone else chase after Danielle for the moment. A married woman she might be, but she couldn't help finding it pleasant to watch Dante in action--and actually for reasons other than his flawless physique. He moved with inhuman strength and unearthly grace, even when doing nothing more dangerous than chasing her daughter around the park. His movements were mesmerizing in their effortlessness.

She watched them for a while, having a nonsensical conversation with Matthew and wandering after them at a distance. She paused when she heard the whisper of shoes over the grass behind her. Turning, she smiled at her husband as he approached.

"There you are," he smiled, immediately pulling her and Matthew both into an embrace. She returned it, though she couldn't help feeling strangely uncomfortable with his sudden presence. Though she had been with her children the entire time she had been with Dante, somehow Dante's company had not seemed entirely real until John was present as well. For some reason that fact bothered her. "How was golf?" she asked, kissing him lightly and trying to ignore her discomfort.

Shrugging, he replied, "Not so good. Robert's gotten a lot better since I played him last. But we had fun." His eyes twinkled when Matthew reached for his glasses. "Hey there, munchkin. Did you have a good day?" Matthew gurgled gleefully and John took him from her arms, spinning him around in the air.

"We ran into someone while we were shopping," Mary said delicately, watching Danielle drag Dante over to the swings with a wistful smile and deciding to broach the topic.

"Oh?" John's glasses were sideways on his face, Matthew's fingers gripping one side tightly.

"You remember my stories about Dante, don't you?"

John's smile tightened. "Yes, of course. Don't tell me you ran into him here. In the market?" His incredulity was a little strained.

"I did. It was quite the coincidence."

John turned, scanning the park anxiously. "So, is he still around? I'd like to meet this rogue from your past."

Slapping him lightly on the arm, Mary scoffed, "He's not a rogue." But as soon as she said it, she realized her words were untrue. Dante _was_ a rogue, but at least he was a kind one. Pointing to the swings, she added, "Danielle's been dragging him all over the park. He's over there by the swings."

"Yes, I see him." John's expression was difficult to interpret. "What unusual hair."

"Come on." Mary hooked her arm with John's and began leading him toward Dante. "I want him to meet you."

Danielle was squealing as Dante pushed her swing higher, and Mary was grateful that he was more mindful of his own strength than he used to be. When she had known him before, he had often seemed surprised by his power and inadvertently damaged walls, doors and various other objects. "Dante," she called when they were closer. "I want you to meet someone."

Stepping away from Danielle's swing after slowing it down--much to Danielle's disappointment--Dante smiled, though the expression was less self-assured than usual. "This must be John."

"How did you guess?" John asked with a soft laugh.

Shrugging, Dante replied, "Oh, I don't know, maybe the utter adoration and pride in her voice when she said 'someone.'"

Mary raised an eyebrow. She had not said it that way. At least she didn't think she had.

Regardless, Dante's indirect compliment had improved John's spirits somewhat. "It's good to finally meet you," John said eagerly, freeing his arm from Mary's grasp so he could offer his hand to Dante.

Gripping John's hand firmly and nodding, Dante agreed, "Yeah. Hope you haven't heard too many bad things about me."

John's smile tightened. "Quite the opposite, actually."

Dante quirked an eyebrow at Mary. "Really." Chuckling darkly, he added, "So I guess she didn't tell you how we first met. She didn't seem to like me much at the time."

Shrugging, Mary caught John's arm again and squeezed it slightly as she said blandly, "You were in my way."

"I remember." Dante rubbed the middle of his forehead absently; she knew he was thinking of the bullet wounds she had made there all those years ago.

"So..."John looked back and forth between the two of them awkwardly. He straightened his glasses on his nose. "Mary said you were some kind of private investigator? Is that right?"

"Uh, yeah. Of a sort." Dante smiled uneasily.

"Business doing well?" Mary had to commend John for making such an effort at conversation, though she was quickly realizing that it was not likely to become any more comfortable as it continued.

"It pays the bills." Dante made an effort of his own to keep the conversation going as he asked, "So, what do you do for a living?" She knew he probably couldn't have cared less, but it was the effort that counted, she supposed.

"I'm a software designer for a company that makes anti-virus programs," John replied with a hint of pride in his voice. "Nothing anywhere as exciting as your line of work, I'm sure, but I guess we're both doing our part to protect the public good."

Dante nodded, a twinkle of amusement in his eyes. "Yeah." He glanced at her, and she could sense his unanswered questions; he wanted to know how she ended up with someone so ordinary as John. "Well..." Dante said, a slow smile spreading across his face. "I really should be going."

"No!" Danielle squealed, pounding on the safety bar of her swing.

"Danielle," Mary reprimanded, approaching her daughter slowly.

Dante's smile had faultered a little at Danielle's response, but he managed to put it back in place when he turned back to her and gave her swing a gentle shove. "It's okay, kid," he murmured so softly that Mary had to strain to hear his words. "You won't even miss me."

The ache in her chest was back again and she wanted to find a way to make Dante stay just a little longer. But things were unwieldy with John around; she could tell John felt uncomfortable around Dante, which in turn made her uncomfortable. "Dante, do you really have to go?"

He returned his gaze to her, hiding any reluctance flawlessly behind his smile. "Yeah. Trish will be calling me soon if I don't turn up."

"Well, it was nice meeting you," John said amiably.

"Yeah." They shook hands again and Dante ruffled Danielle's hair. "Take good care of your parents," he told her. Danielle frowned fiercely at him, fighting to crawl out of the swing, but he turned away quickly and began distancing himself. Touching Mary lightly on the shoulder, he added, "It was good to see you again." He began backing away slowly, but Mary felt a panicky rush of feelings. This was too abrupt. She wasn't ready for this ghost from her past to just walk out of her life again.

Mary glanced at John and said quietly, "Just give us a minute, okay?"

"Sure." His smile seemed unperturbed, but she could see the hint of jealousy in his eyes. At the moment, Mary didn't care; she knew that he had no reason to be jealous. She also knew he would get over it. Trailing after Dante, she caught his sleeve firmly. "You should come visit us sometime, Dante. Bring Trish. I'd like to meet her."

Hesitating, he looked away, his expression distracted. "Yeah."

She tried to catch his eyes, but he masterfully evaded her gaze. She frowned. "You won't do it, will you?" He did not reply, his expression guarded. "Why not?"

Swallowing audibly, he began uncomfortably, "Honestly, Lady--"

With regret in her voice, she pointed out quickly, "It's Mary, Dante. You don't have to call me 'Lady' anymore." It hurt to say the words because it meant severing some of the connection they had once had.

"Mary..." He gestured uncomfortably with his hands, as if words alone were not sufficient to describe his feelings. "I think it's better for everyone involved if we just go our separate ways. We live in two very different worlds now, and it's safer if those worlds don't intersect."

"You're afraid associating with me would make me a target," she interpreted with a spark of her old fire. "I can still take care of myself, Dante."

"I know that, but you have a family to protect now." His gaze drifted back to Danielle, John and Matthew before sweeping around the park with unease. "It was dangerous enough for us to be seen together in public today."

She raised an eyebrow, smirking at his paranoia. "Dante, we're in the middle of the market district. Last I checked, it's not a top demon hang out."

He shook his head solemnly. "I think you underestimate their hatred for me."

"You act as if you're a wanted man."

His blue eyes focused on her with an unwavering intensity and she shivered; he was so lighthearted and sarcastic most of the time that seeing him so very serious was unnerving. She wondered suddenly how much he had actually changed since she saw him last. The boisterous, fearless young man she had known seemed like a distant memory as she looked into his eyes now, and she wondered if he had only been keeping up the act for her.

"That's exactly what I am, Mary." Looking away again, his expression tight, he added, "Except it's not the law looking for me. It's something far worse. My blood calls to them--to every demon that my father betrayed--and I've only extended the invitation further. I'm not a safe person to befriend."

On an impulse Mary rose up on her toes and reached for him, slipping her arms around his neck and pulling him into a tight embrace. He did not react at first, stunned by her impromtu gesture, his muscles tense as he stood carefully immobile. To her recollection, she had never hugged him before--had never invaded his personal space on this level--partially because she had always been concerned with letting him get too close. Now she was the one initiating contact and she felt a vague, mournful loss that she had delayed doing so for so long.

"Take care of yourself," she murmured against his neck.

He relaxed against her, finally returning her embrace with a gentle touch against her back. "I always do."

His grin was back in place when she pulled away, though now that he had let his walls down for a moment, she could see the pain he kept hidden away behind his smug expression, and the realization made her indescribably sad. She touched his chest lightly, right above his heart. "Maybe our paths will cross again someday."

"Maybe," he replied doubtfully, already walking away.

She watched him leave, thinking about how much her life had changed and how all of the decisions she had made since parting ways with Dante had led them to this time and place. The moment seemed to be larger than it should have been, more significant--as if it had been her last chance to reclaim her previous lifestyle. Or maybe it was more about resolution, and this chance encounter had simply been a way to finally let go of the division between the two halves of her life. She was Mary, and Lady, both a mother and a daughter. Her new life wasn't a way of running away from her past, as she had occasionally feared in the deepest, darkest parts of her mind. It was her redemption.

**Author's Note: Well, there it is. I'd love to know what you though of it. I have to say, I probably had way too much fun with the whole "Dante's a hottie" bit. But it's true that we never see him in an ordinary setting. There's something really fun about the juxtaposition. Dante in a city park. It's just weird. Thanks for reading!**


End file.
